


You Don't Have to Be Cool (To Rule My World)

by Suaine



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, falling in love and other silly things boys do, how to pair skate: a guide for dummies, katsudonbang2017, the summer of victor's content, we're all extra here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-05 18:08:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10314017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suaine/pseuds/Suaine
Summary: This is the story of Victor falling in love during a summer and fall full of ice skating and Yuri Katsuki.Yuri needs an exhibition program. There’s only one program that could encompass all that they’ve been through both as individuals and as a team.stammi vicinonon te ne andare





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a katsudonbang2017 story and wow, amazing! What a cool and lovely event to be a part of!
> 
> Betaed by the lovely Cat, who tried so hard to rid me of my worst bad habits. To questionable success, I admit.
> 
> Art by the stunning and talented [Berry](http://youweremyridehome.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Thanks to everyone, especially JoJo and Muse for their thorough modding, and everyone in the Twitter chat. Y'all are gold.

  


SUMMER

Watching Yuri on the ice was like an addiction, like craving coffee every morning or yearning for the kind of drugs Victor had only ever heard about. The rink was silent except for their skates and their occasional shouts to each other, shouts of encouragement or correction.

Yuri drove himself hard. It gave Victor a strange thrill, maybe part envy, part smug satisfaction – he knew what it was like to push his body to the limit of human endurance, through pain and exhaustion, to perfect a simple movement, a jump or spin or step sequence.

Yuri launched himself into the air: a clean quad, great height, solid landing. “That was beautiful, Yuri.”

The compliments always came easy, spilling from Victor's lips whenever the occasion allowed. He was bursting with small things to say every time Yuri so much as breathed. He caught himself often in daydreams of a closeness they'd only just started to develop between them.

Things had been off to a rocky start; Yuri Katsuki was always unexpected.

Their free skate program was ambitious. Even with Yuri's jumps lacking a certain finesse, it had the potential to carry them right to the top. And it looked frankly stunning. When Yuri practiced the whole thing, Victor could never take his eyes off the lines of Yuri's body, the way he seemed to let himself get lost in the flow.

With this routine and Eros, they really did have a chance at the GP Final, maybe even a gold medal. All that stood between them and a win was Yuri's mind throwing obstacles into his path. Victor had seen the videos from last year's Grand Prix, from Worlds the year before. Yuri was much better than he gave himself credit for, but there was always something holding him back. With his jumps, there was always a moment when he shied away, an Olympic jumping horse afraid of the bars.

The sound of a jump caught Victor's attention.

Yuri fell.

He tried to catch himself with his left hand and momentum made him roll over his shoulder and crash into the wall. That looked objectively painful enough for Victor's suddenly racing heart to be explained away, even without a little extra incentive. He skated over, relief curling in his chest as Yuri pushed himself up.

“Yuri,” Victor said, squatting next to him, letting his eyes scan for any obvious signs of injury. “Are you alright?”

Yuri sighed. He kept his gaze on his hands. “It's okay. You told me not to think too much about the jumps, but I couldn't help it.” He curled his fist, his entire body trembling. Victor reached out. He took one of Yuri's hands, the one that had taken the brunt of the fall, and carefully inspected it. There would be bruising later. His fingers traced the delicate skin and he congratulated himself for not giving in and putting his mouth to that lovely palm.

Everything about Yuri was so strangely alluring, all the little things that Yuri probably never even thought about, like the way his hair began to curl over his ears when it's grown a bit too long or when he pushed up his glasses.

“You don't have to figure it out in one day,” Victor said.

With Yuri, whose nerves were like the strings of a guitar, it was always possible to say the wrong thing at the wrong time. Sometimes he shut down, often he got that look like he'd just taken a bullet in some soft, fleshy part of his body. “I can do it, Victor. I know I can.”

And that was the thing, wasn't it? Yuri knew, but he didn't believe it, not in his heart. “I know you do. But you've done the same sequence fifteen times today. As your coach, I'm telling you to stop for now. We can go have some early dinner and talk about your exhibition program.”

Yuri blinked, owlishly, like suddenly it had occurred to his brain that his sight was limited. On the ice, he never looked like he needed glasses, it was as if he could feel the entire rink just through his skates. “Uh, what?”

Victor grinned. He noticed that his hand was still cradling Yuri's and he let his thumb stroke a soothing rhythm. “If you're going to win all those gold medals, we're going to need something to really blow their minds.”

+

If Victor had to describe Yuri in one word, it would probably be delightful. Even when he was frustrating and confusing, everything about him was just so damn charming that Victor couldn't even get properly annoyed at his terrible habits. Yuri overslept more than he was on time; he gave off mixed signals like a disco ball standing in for a traffic light; he was at once incredibly ambitious and didn't have an ounce of self-esteem when it came to his skating. All that, and Victor couldn't stop watching him, hiding a smile so Yuri wouldn't see right through him.

Victor put down his chopsticks and leaned his head on his hand, watching Yuri eat. When he was concentrating this hard on simple rice and veggies, Yuri had something else on his mind, something that had probably rattled around in his head for a while. It was best to let him get it out on his own.

“I've been thinking,” Yuri said, still not looking up.

Victor smiled. “Oh, about what?”

“What you said about the exhibition.” He met Victor's gaze suddenly, and there was a fire in his eyes that set Victor's heart ablaze. “I want to do something they will remember forever.”

The air around them felt inadequate to Victor's excitement. “Yes! That's the kind of thing I wanted to hear!”

Victor found himself leaning over the table, hands planted a hair's breadth from the steaming rice bowls. Yuri leaned in too, for once not shying away from Victor's enthusiasm. They were close enough to kiss if only Victor could bridge the divide between them. He watched as Yuri blushed and turned his eyes down, watched as Yuri slowly retreated back into his insecurity. It was a well-trod path by now and Victor had grown accustomed to the small twinge of hurt.

“Yuri,” Victor said, sitting back a little to give his skater some space. “You don't have to decide right now. We still have to put the finishing touches on your free skate.”

“I, uh, I have an idea,” Yuri said, “but I'm not sure it's a good one. Let me think about it a bit more, okay?”

Victor smiled. “Sure. We still have the summer to make a decision.”

+

Summer began with an early June heatwave that was as unseasonable as the April snow storm. Hasetsu should have been the perfect place to be in the oppressive heat, but the ninja castle radiated second-hand sun with abandon and any thought of training left Victor listless and unmotivated. Two days in, the Nishigoris had to close down the rink – it simply wouldn't be safe to skate with temperatures as they were.

Yuri deflated more every day and Victor couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Not even playing that silly craft game on his laptop could cheer him up. Victor needed to figure something out, and quickly.

“Ah, Yuri! We're going to the beach.”

Yuri blinked up at him from the floor of the main dining hall. He looked like a stranded starfish. Victor leaned down and poked Yuri's forehead. “Come on, it's going to be great. I'll buy you ice cream.”

Yuri's lips twitched. “I want two scoops.”

Laughing, Victor took Yuri by the hand and pulled him up. “You can have as many scoops as you want.”

+

The beach was nothing like that day a few weeks earlier when Victor had taken Yuri to watch the sea gulls. For one, there were many more people there, families with small children, couples and loners, everyone enjoying the relief from the heat. Sand castles were being built and Yuri watched in awe as a replica of the ninja house grew before their eyes.

Victor touched Yuri's upper arm and pointed at a nice spot a little out of the way that had yet to be claimed by anyone. It was a bit too far from the sea to be convenient, but a few trees provided sparse shade that could prove to be more than valuable in a few more hours.

“I'm going to set out our stuff over there.”

Yuri nodded, his eyes gleaming. There was something about Yuri's eyes when he was thinking – they were always full of fire, but never more than when he was figuring something out. “Yeah, okay.”

Victor put down their towels and watched as Yuri talked to the children building their grand architectures. When Yuri smiled, he was stunningly, achingly beautiful, and Victor felt that familiar yearning. Victor's amorous advances had been resoundingly rebuffed, but he had yet to give up hope, mostly because Yuri kept giving him reasons not to. Since that last day on the beach, they had grown closer, despite Yuri's panicked denial of Victor's offer. Yuri touched him more often now, lingering where he didn't need to, and as much as it made Victor suffer, he also lived for these moments.

When Yuri caught up, he threw himself on the towel and grinned at Victor. “We should go swim.”

Victor could smell the danger in the air, but he had no defense against Yuri's enthusiasm. “Alright, yes, we will go swimming.” He smiled wickedly and held up a bottle of sunscreen. “But we must be safe, of course.”

Yuri blushed up to his ears. “Yes, of course.”

Watching Yuri undress wasn't anything new, considering they'd shared the hot springs so many times, but it never stopped being a lovely sight. Victor could see the blush descend down Yuri's back and wondered what it would taste like. He shook himself out of it, aware that these thoughts wouldn't lead anywhere but inconvenient public arousal, a problem he'd only developed since meeting Yuri Katsuki.

Victor put a massive amount of sunscreen on his hands, surprised that it wasn't cold, despite the heat all around them. He had imagined Yuri shivering at the first touch of cold cream on his back and was a little put out that reality wouldn't conform to his fantasies. Instead, Yuri barely reacted when Victor put his hands all over him.

“Sunscreen is very important,” Victor whispered into Yuri's ear, determined to get at least a shiver out of this. Yuri nodded carefully. His hair tickled Victor's nose with the movement.

“Yes, of course,” Yuri said. He was a little too calm and it made Victor worry that he was stepping over one of Yuri's invisible boundaries. Slowly, he took his hands off Yuri's heated skin.

“Yuri,” he began, unsure how to approach the subject. “Tell me what you want.”

A new blush spread over Yuri's back. He turned his face up to meet Victor's gaze. He looked impish and determined. “You've taken care of me very well. You always do.” He took one of Victor's hands. “I should do your back, too. It's only fair.”

Somehow, it hadn't occurred to Victor that this would be necessary. It felt like his own needs weren't quite so important when he was tied up in Yuri Katsuki's life. “Ah, okay. Of course.” Victor's eyes had to be wide as saucers; he certainly felt like he was bursting from the inside out.

Yuri took the bottle out of his hand. “I promise I will be gentle,” Yuri said, and Victor couldn't tell if they were still talking about sunscreen.

+

Practice during the summer was punctuated by trips to the beach, long early morning jogs with Makkachin that took every ounce of Yuri's considerable determination – for all that he wanted to win, Yuri and early mornings just didn't mix – and late nights watching terrible movies and amazing TV shows. Yuri had given up trying to teach Victor about the computer games he loved, but Victor found himself enjoying Yuri's Netflix queue more than he thought he would.

It started, simply enough, with a small blasphemy. “What do you mean, you've never seen Star Trek?!” Yuri had had such a look of disbelief on his face that Victor couldn't help but agree to anything Yuri asked of him.

It turned out, Victor enjoyed science fiction far more than he thought he would, but mostly when it was something Yuri was really excited about. And if he was watching Yuri more than the laptop screen, then that was his own personal secret. Binge watching the King and the Skater animated TV show gave them the a chance to yell at the screen for the terrible dialogue and enjoy the surprisingly fluid animation.

“You know,” Victor said over the credits of episode 23, “this show would make a lot more sense if they were in love.”

Yuri tensed, but didn't take his eyes off the screen. They'd seen this sequence enough times that Victor could hum the song in his sleep. “Who says they are not?” Yuri said, quietly, after a long minute. Victor's heart began to pound in his ears, a counterpoint to the upbeat rhythm of the music.

He swallowed his sudden fear. “Many would say they are just close friends, of course. They have never shared anything... obvious.” Victor's mouth had dried to a desert.

Yuri turned sideways, bringing their faces so close together that Victor could feel his breath on his lips. “These things, they, uh, they don't always have to be obvious.” Yuri was blushing. It took Victor's breath away. If he only had the courage, he could lean closer and press his lips to Yuri's, or perhaps what stopped him was that he didn't have permission and didn't know how to ask for it.

The moment broke with the first notes of the intro for the next episode blaring at them. Yuri's head snapped back to the screen, and all that remained of their connection was the blush on Yuri's cheek and Yuri's body pressed close enough for Victor to feel every inch along his side. Victor let his arm slip across Yuri's back and closed his eyes.

+

Victor disentangled himself carefully the next morning, trying not to wake Yuri. He pulled their blanket up over Yuri's shoulders and allowed himself a moment just to watch. In sleep, Yuri looked soft and vulnerable, easily wounded, and it reminded Victor that there was a lot to lose here. He couldn't quite put a name to the feeling, it was so much and so different from everything he'd felt before, but it overwhelmed him with a warmth and excitement he didn't expect.

Outside the room, he allowed himself to drop back against the door frame and release a heavy sigh. He was hungry and could use a run with Makkachin, but his dog had taken to running with Yuri instead. He made his way to the dining room and found Mari sitting there already, lit cigarette in her hand and that look.

“Victor,” she said. Her English was much better than her parents' but she still often had trouble finding the right words when they were alone. She was a lot bolder than her brother though, brash even. “I want to talk... about Yuri.”

Victor smiled. “I'm always happy to talk about Yuri.”

Mari nodded. “Yes. I have noticed.”

Sitting down across from her, Victor couldn't quite manage to wipe the happiness from his face. “He's a great skater.”

Mari smacked him across the head. “I am not talking about skating. Don't be stupid.”

“I can't say more than that. I'm not sure what he wants... he's not always good with his words.”

Mari laughed. “No one is good with words. Not when they are about the heart. Yuri is worse than most people.”

Mari put out the butt of her cigarette and dragged him to the kitchen, where Toshiya had already made breakfast for them. He greeted them both with an enthusiasm that made Victor wonder how it could be possible that Yuri hated mornings so very much. His entire family was awake and working at the break of dawn.

“Good morning,” Toshiya said in Japanese, and Victor returned the gesture. He was trying his best to learn the language.

Mari put some bowls on a tray that were filled with delicious steaming morsels. Victor hadn't learned the words for most of his favorite food items yet, but he didn't need to say anything when the Katsukis always had new things for him to try.

“Come, let us go back.” She carried the fully laden tray and dropped it unceremoniously on the table they had occupied earlier. “Sit. Eat. I know you are hungry.”

Victor dug into the food with abandon, always happy to indulge himself, now that he had a chance. “This is very good.”

“Yes, but don't change the subject. Yuri. What are you doing with him?”

Victor looked down at his food. “I'm going to show him that he can win the Grand Prix, just as I said.”

“Is that all?”

Victor shrugged. What else could he say? That his heart was beating faster every time he saw Yuri on the ice? That he could watch him for hours, whether it was at the rink, or the onsen, or Victor's bed, innocent as it was? How could he explain what he couldn't quite put into words in his own mind? Yuri had come to mean so much to him that sometimes he felt unsure who he wanted himself to be anymore. He'd always defined himself by his own skating, by his ability to outdo himself, to startle the audience into giving him their full and undivided attention. He'd always thrived in the spotlight, but now he was happy pushing someone else into it, watching as Yuri made it his own.

+

Summer bled into fall without Victor noticing. Days grew shorter and nights grew colder, until it was undeniable that the height of summer, the innocent, haze-like quality of his time alone with Yuri was about to be over. September came and with it the regional championships and Yuri's first time showing off the free skate program.

It was such a personal piece and so intricately connected with Yuri's life that it felt like a challenge, something that meant more than just another program. Their success or failure now could mean a prophecy for their future on and off the ice.

Victor hadn't been nervous like this since the first time he qualified for the Olympics.

They had honed the choreography enough that Victor expected high PCS even if Yuri flubbed most of his jumps. It was a difficult program, on the high end of what they both thought Yuri could do, but with just two quads, and one of them a little shaky, Yuri had a lot of ground to make up before the Grand Prix. There were other, younger skaters out there who made up for their lack of finesse with raw power, and there was always Yurio, who could easily do both with a little bit of coaxing.

“Why are you making that face?” Yuri asked as he entered Victor’s room, dropping on Victor's bed with no room between them. They were spending most of their downtime here, like this, pressed together and leaving only the thinnest of respectable boundaries between them. It was a delicious, beautiful torture that Victor no longer minded. The way Yuri touched him now, all the time, was a careful exploration, a breathless promise.

Victor smiled brightly. He could only ever smile brightly when Yuri's eyes were on him, like a lovesick, overeager puppy. It would be slightly pathetic if Yuri didn't look at him much the same way. “I thought about your exhibition program.”

Yuri frowned, poking his index finger in the space between Victor's eyebrows. “Alright, have you had any amazing insights?”

Victor narrowed his eyes. There had been a note of tension in Yuri's voice, something he was keeping hidden. Yuri's gaze didn't meet Victor's. It was still hard for Yuri to express these things, things he wasn't sure about, and Victor didn't really have a surefire way to get it out of him.

“All of my ideas are amazing,” Victor said.

Yuri laughed, quick and honest. “You are so full of yourself.” He pushed Victor's hair out of his face with such gentleness and ease that it set something right in Victor's heart he hadn't known had been broken.

“That's why you like me,” Victor said, taking a shallow, painful breath.

Yuri smiled and dropped his hand. “Don't change the subject.”

Victor wished he could kiss him. “I promise I'm not. You said you wanted to do something big, but we have to win first. What if we used something you've already practiced?”

Yuri blushed violently and started coughing. Startled, Victor backed away, unsure what he'd said, and yelped as he fell backwards off the bed.

“Uh,” Yuri said as he peered over the edge. “Are you okay?”

Victor rubbed the back of his head. “Are you?!”

Yuri smiled. “I'll tell you tomorrow.”

+

They picked up the costume for the free skate in Saga City and stopped to eat lunch in the most expensive restaurant Victor could find. He watched Yuri pick at his food and didn't really need to guess that something was on Yuri's mind. He looked like it was spilling out of him with every breath; Yuri just didn't have the words.

On the way home, Yuri was quieter than usual, but high-strung in a way Victor had rarely seen. He was vibrating with tension and picked at a seam in his clothes like a lifeline about to unravel. It was silent but not uncomfortable, a liminal journey along the coast on a warm late August evening. Victor felt content and secure in his choices, fully aware of the world around him, of Yuri's presence in his car, in his life.

“Let's try the outfit on the ice,” Victor said, aware that his desire was simply that he didn't want to go home just yet. The day had been such an odd adventure, so filled with an anticipatory tension that made him tingle in all the right ways – he didn't want it to stop.

Yuri stilled, his body rigid and a delicate blush rising on his cheeks. “Yes, yes. We can do that.” Yuri took a deep breath. “I want to show you something.”

Victor nodded. “I can't wait.”

At the ice rink, only Yuko and the triplets were still working, moving skates to where they belonged and cleaning up the detritus of a slow day. Victor led Yuri to the changing rooms and grabbed some of their clothes from the showers.

“Victor, I think I need some help here,” Yuri said, and Victor stopped dead in his tracks. The costume was a set made of a leotard, pants, and a half-way see-through jacket. Yuri had managed to step into the leotard but apparently couldn't reach the zipper at the back.

“Please, Victor, can you...”

Victor tried to swallow, but his mouth was bone dry. “I, uh, yeah. Yes. Of course.”

He stepped close, so close he could feel the heat radiate from Yuri's body. He fumbled with the zipper for a moment, his hands shaking. Yuri smelled good enough to eat, and looked the part. Victor leaned down, his mouth right next to Yuri's ear. “The color suits you.”

“Victor,” Yuri said, his voice trembling.

They always got here, right to the edge, and then fell back to a safer distance. It was a dance and Victor wondered if today they would finally reach the end of the song. He had no idea if Yuri was ready for that, or even if he himself was. He wasn't in any hurry, anyway.

“You wanted to show me something,” Victor said. His own voice sounded too rough in his ears, like he'd been scraped raw, torn open.

Yuri nodded. “Yes, I-- On the ice. Just. Just let me put on these clothes.”

Victor stepped back and realized that what he lost in contact he made up for with a fantastic view. He'd seen Yuri's body so many times and yet could never get enough, could never stop following every flash of skin with his eyes. Yuri shrugged on the jacket and sat down to tie up his skates. The movement of his fingers was hypnotizing.

“Okay, okay! Let's go,” Yuri said, dragging Victor out to the rink, hand locked tightly around Victor's wrist.

On the ice, Yuri was always beautiful. Even just during practice, Yuri had a quality that made Victor's heart ache and yearn. The new costume fit the theme and Yuri looked absolutely gorgeous in it, though Victor figured they'd have to do something to the hair, similar to his Eros look.

Yuri skated to the center of the rink. “Please, watch me.”

Victor knew the pose, of course he did. He'd done this program so many times, had poured his heart into it. He'd watched Yuri's image on a tiny phone screen nearly as often, tracing every jump, spin, and step sequence with his fingertips.

He didn't need to hear the music to recognize the song.

+

Victor followed Yuri into the changing rooms in silence, still thinking about the first time he'd seen the opera in Moscow. He'd gone with his mother, back when she still pretended to care more for him than she did for the business empire she and his father had built. He remembered hearing that mournful song, the song of someone hurting and desperate, and he'd never needed to know the translation to know what it meant.

Yearning.

He'd learned a new, more intimate meaning of the word now. With Yuri, yearning was simply to wait for the inevitable, to follow an intricate path to their future.

“Sit down,” Victor said and knelt in front of Yuri.

Yuri sat, head bowed, hands curled into tight fists resting on his thighs. “Victor,” he said, “what do you think?”

Victor's fingers undid the laces of Yuri's skates and pulled them off, a gentle, almost reverent gesture. He trailed his index fingers across Yuri's ankle. Yuri gasped. Victor allowed his palms to travel up Yuri's thigh.

“Victor, please say something.” Yuri sounded breathless. Good.

Victor tried to find his own voice, but it was drenched in the thick, cloying arousal that had spread through every piece of him, every limb and bone and ounce of flesh. “Yuri,” he whispered. “Yuri.”

“Victor.” Yuri's hand reached out to touch his scalp, ever so softly, then trailed downward to rest on his cheek. Victor pressed his face into the contact, eyes closed.

“You were beautiful.” Victor opened his eyes to meet Yuri's gaze. “The video did not do it justice.”

Yuri blushed violently and turned his head. “I practiced. I wanted to make you proud.”

Victor surged up, framing Yuri between his arms, touching their foreheads together. He wanted to push his whole body into Yuri, become one with this beautiful, ridiculous creature. “I could not be more proud if you just won a gold medal.”

At that, Yuri smiled, and for the first time Victor recognized that impish, mischievous boy he'd fallen for last year. “We'll see about that.”

+

After winning the regional championship, Yuri had a TV interview that turned him into a nervous wreck. He made Victor stay home for reasons Victor couldn't quite figure out. They'd been together so much that it felt strange to watch Yuri on a small screen instead of being right within reach of him.

The entirety of Katsuki-Nishigori-and-Friends were there with Victor to cheer on their little katsudon, who had chosen to face this step alone. The Japanese figure skating association was announcing their lineup for Nationals and honoring the skaters who made it to the Grand Prix. Yuri was the star athlete there, something Victor had always known but never quite understood because Yuri himself had never truly understood it either. Yuri embodied everything that was amazing about current Japanese figure skating. He was the best of the best at what he did.

Victor's heart was filled to the brim with pride and something else, something beautiful and fragile.

“He looks nervous,” Yuko said, the English startling Victor back to attention. Yuri was about to speak. He had that look.

“Oh,” Victor said, “what did they ask him?”

Yuko smiled. “His theme for the season. He's going to declare what he's skating for.”

Victor nodded and allowed himself to relax. He already knew. He didn't need a translation of Yuri's very enthusiastic Japanese to feel a bit of a warm glow, despite the terrible outfit Yuri was wearing. He looked like a schoolboy out on a field trip.

“When you come back, we're going to burn that tie,” Victor said, smiling at that seed of a feeling inside of him.

Everyone else was staring. Yuko elbowed him in the side, shaking her head. Victor shrugged and pointed at the TV, where journalists were pelting Yuri with questions. Whatever he'd said had kicked loose an avalanche.

“What?”

+

When Yuri came back that night, he looked sheepish and excited, shimmying the way he did when he was pleased. Victor launched himself at Yuri as soon as the door opened and threw his arms around Yuri in a desperate hug.

“Whoa, Victor, let me breathe!”

Victor pressed his face into Yuri's neck and inhaled deeply. “Breathing is overrated.”

Yuri laughed, “I can't win the Grand Prix if you smother me!”

Victor let go, though the movement was reluctant and aborted just before completion. He refused to lose contact and held on to Yuri's hands. Looking at Yuri made him smile uncontrollably. He could feel his entire face strain toward the sun.

“Did, uh, did anyone translate for you? What I said to the reporters?” Victor would never get enough of Yuri blushing.

“I didn't need them to translate,” Victor said, giving Yuri's hands a quick squeeze. “You already told me. They seemed a little shocked though! You were very passionate.” Victor grinned. His voice had dropped down to his stomach, where it made his entire body twist with want.

The color of Yuri's face, for once, did not resemble a valiant attempt at deep crimson; he paled to a stark, terrifying white. Victor immediately felt lost, but likely no more so than Yuri himself who began to twitch and mutter under his breath. There was so much he still didn't know how to handle when it came to Yuri and his issues.

Victor squeezed his hands again and let go. “Hey, hey. Yuri. It's okay. It's okay.”

Yuri was shaking. Victor had no idea what to do.

“Yuri?” He asked, after a very long minute passed in oppressive silence. Before he could ask anything else, Yuri stepped forward and buried Victor in an embrace that shattered Victor's tenuous hold on his composure.

They stood like this until Mari called them to dinner.

  
  


CUP OF CHINA

The time until China passed in a blur of training. At night, they often slept in Victor's room, too exhausted to finish even the first episode of whatever they were watching at the time. Yuri touched him so much now that Victor sometimes wondered if they were somehow physically attached, perhaps with invisible rubber bands or tiny magnets.

Not that he was complaining. All the attention was feeding the certainty building in his heart, his mind, his bones. They were going to be amazing together for the rest of their lives. And maybe Victor had never really been in love before and had no idea how to do these things, but he knew what he had been given.

A chance to be happy.

+

There were, essentially, two Yuri's: the one that took Victor's hand, ordered him to never look away, and destroyed every other skater with a score even Victor wouldn't have been guaranteed; and the Yuri that greeted him the next morning, after a night of sleeping alone. Or not sleeping, as the case may be.

Yuri looked wrecked. Victor had never seen him like this – nervous, for sure, and he'd talked about his breakdown last year, though always in a way that made it easy to dismiss. But this was- This wasn't normal.

He tried everything he could think of to get Yuri to relax, but it was as if he was talking to a wall. “I'm fine, no, no, of course I slept, I'm okay, don't worry.” All of it said by a man who looked like he was in a costume contest for The Walking Dead.

Victor was about ready to scream and could feel Yakov's smug glare on the back of his head. He was fucking up as a coach and as Yuri's, well, whatever he was to him these days. He should know better, he should have learned all of this by now. He was always so good at everything he tried, it was ridiculous that this was the one thing he couldn't figure out.

And Yuri was going to pay for it.

He couldn't let that happen. Victor would do anything for Yuri to become the star he truly was, on and off the ice, even if that meant doing something that would hurt both of them. Victor, admittedly, didn't feel entirely rational when it came to Yuri, his feelings, and his feelings about Yuri's skating. He wanted so many things and he was on the verge of screaming into the void.

Then Yuri started crying.

+

Victor didn't remember making the conscious choice to throw himself at Yuri while he was barreling at top speed toward him, on the ice, like that was maybe the most foolish thing he'd ever done, including leaving Russia on a whim and a prayer.

The kiss was...

It was. Well. It was over too quick and right there at the apex of their momentum, eyes closed and drowning in everything that Yuri Katsuki meant to him, Victor fully realized that they were about to hit the ice really fucking hard. And still. It was so-

“I couldn't think of anything else to surprise you more than you surprised me,” Victor said with his voice cracking and his heart bursting with joy, with hope, with all the things Yuri had carved into him.

“Really?” Yuri looked at him like Victor had just given him the world, like it hadn't been Yuri who'd made the biggest steps all the time, who made all the declarations – in words, in skating, with that beautiful smile. Victor couldn't help it, he leaned in again, licking that sigh right out of Yuri's mouth.

This kiss, oh, it was different. Tender, still, aware that they were on the ice, watched by hundreds of thousands of people, including Yuri's entire family. Victor let Yuri set the pace and found himself with his back on the ice in moments, rolled over like a wolf offering his throat to his beautiful skating god.

They were kissing again, again and again, breathing a distant memory, decorum a thing of the past. Yuri tasted like skin and exuberance, like they had just won the Olympics and this was their prize. Somewhere someone was calling their names and Victor remembered that they still had a score to care about, that there was a whole world outside Yuri's eyes and mouth and gentle, thorough hands.

He was possessed and it felt glorious.

+

Yuri crashed right around the time Phichit tried to drag them out to celebrate. Victor saw the signs and declined cheekily, implying to everyone in the lobby that they were going to need some private time now. It wasn't even a lie, but not what he'd let them all believe. There would be time for that later; now Yuri had to rest.

They made it to the elevators before Yuri let his head fall on Victor's shoulder and started snoring. It was the best thing that ever happened to Victor. He couldn't bear to wake up his sleeping beauty and carefully carried him to the first of their two rooms – the one Yuri had banished him to the night before.

“I hadn't even realized that sleeping without you had become so strange.” Victor said as he kicked the door shut behind him. He didn't need to hit the light switch, the bright and colorful city-scape was more than enough illumination to see the bed. He put Yuri down on the bed and watched as he curled up like a kitten, snuffling and sighing.

The sight made Victor weak, not just in the knees but everywhere. His heart felt like it might just burst out of his chest, beating an unsteady but enthusiastic rhythm. Victor dropped into the world's most uncomfortable armchair.

“Sometimes I have no idea how to do any of this, you know? I thought I would learn, but you're just so-” He made a waving gesture at the air above Yuri. “So you. To be honest, if you had told me a year ago that we'd be here, like this, I would have laughed at you.”

Victor leaned back in the chair, staring at the ceiling above him. The lights and shadows flickered across his vision like tiny fairies. “I thought it was a little weird that you would just walk away from me at the rink, but then you were all over me at the banquet and I couldn't stop thinking about you. I've been confused ever since, but today. I think I figured something out.”

Leaning forward, Victor looked at Yuri's scrunched up, sleeping face. “I think I love you.” He kissed Yuri's forehead. Then he drew the blanket over Yuri and settled back into his chair.

He wasn't tired, not even a little bit.

+

Yuri slept so long that by the time he woke up they had to hurry not to miss the beginning of the gala. Victor dragged him into the bathroom and under the shower before he even realized what he was doing, and they were so late that he never even had time to feel embarrassed about it. Yuri, too, was still too tired and distracted to even blush.

The blushing came later, down in the changing rooms off the rink, when Victor helped him into the free skate costume.

“We're going to have to buy you something else, something that fits the music,” Victor said as he drew up the zipper at the back.

Yuri nodded. “I thought, maybe, I could wear your outfit...”

Victor turned Yuri around and looked into his eyes. “Not this time. Have you ever seen the opera performance? Vasiliy and the Commander both wear the same uniform, but in different colors. It's very striking when they are finally together.”

“Good, different colors then.” Yuri kissed him, just a quick peck on the lips. “Maybe we can see the opera together sometime.”

Victor grinned and threw his arms around Yuri. “Is that a date, Mr. Katsuki?”

The small “maybe” made Victor light up inside.

This was the first time for Yuri to perform the exhibition program in front of an audience and Victor was easily as nervous as Yuri himself, not least because Stammi Vicino had meant so much to him when he was younger, and last year, when he'd tried to find a way to articulate that missing thing inside him. He'd never put himself and his raw feelings into a program like this and it had earned him not just several gold medals but also another world record.

When the music started, Yuri transformed into a different version of himself. He became a mournful, yearning boy who only ever wanted to be loved, and didn't know that someone already did. In the opera, Vasiliy and the commander fell in love despite fighting on different sides of a fictional civil war and it had always given Victor a strange kind of hope. He'd felt a kinship with these characters, something he rarely felt in other stories.

Yuri was stunningly beautiful. The program was always a culmination of feeling, a climax to emotions Victor hadn't yet experienced, so something had always been missing. Yuri, somehow, embodied the other side so perfectly that it filled Victor with a new understanding.

He had to be out there with Yuri. They had grown so close already, so tied up in each other, and this would be their declaration to the world. On the ice, together, they could tell the real story of their love.

+

For two days after returning from China, Victor was a terrible coach. He kept distracting Yuri on the ice, drawing him in for extended kisses, and putting his hands all over Yuri's body. He discovered places where Yuri was insanely ticklish and spots that he could kiss to turn Yuri into a puddle of goo. Discovery was a delightful distraction and for a while he didn't care about anything else.

On day three, Yuri smirked at him when Victor tried to kiss him, and held up a hand. “You get a kiss when I've landed the quad flip three times.”

Yuri was a cruel, cruel taskmaster, worse than Victor had ever been. The only thing Victor had ever denied his beloved protege was a bit of food and the privilege to go on the ice, but Yuri was ripping Victor's heart from his chest and trampling his soul.

Never mind what it was doing to Victor's balls. He was in a constant state of frustrated arousal on the rink now. Victor also might have said that out loud. He might also possibly be prone on the ice, with his right arm dramatically draped over his face.

Yuri had the audacity to laugh at him. “You're the one who wants me to win the Grand Prix Final,” Yuri said as he dragged Victor up from the ice and kissed his nose.

+

This was a thing Victor could never get over: the softness of Yuri's hair on his face when they were waking up in the morning, all tangled up and warm. He buried his face in the thick mess of hair and took a deep breath. Yuri squirmed against him and burrowed further into the covers.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Victor whispered into Yuri's ear.

“Gaaahhhhrgh,” was Yuri's answer.

Victor dropped a kiss on Yuri's shoulder. “I know you're awake. I had a thought.”

Yuri grunted, but turned his face slightly up, presumably to be able to listen to Victor a bit better. Victor grinned. “I really want to skate with you.”

This statement earned him a full turn and bleary eyes looking at him with nothing but sarcasm. “Victor, you skate with me all the time. That is not a reason to wake me up at-” Yuri reached for his phone, stared at it, and threw it on the blanket. “At six in the morning, Victor, why?!”

“I couldn't wait!”

Yuri threw the pillow at his face, missed, and knocked down a picture of Victor during the 2009 season, with the ill-advised tassels. Yuri stared wide-eyed at the broken glass, some vague sense of loss passing his face, and swallowed. “You deserved that.”

Victor kissed Yuri on the nose, half apology and half burning need to do terribly cute things with Yuri at all times. It would have been embarrassing if Victor had any kind of shame about displays of affection. “You were so beautiful in China, I couldn't stop myself from joining you on the ice. It's where we belong, together.”

+

Yuri yelped as Victor tried to lift him up, “Oww, Victor, let me down. Let me down!”

Victor stepped back to watch as Yuri rubbed his armpits and mumbled something about hamfisted coaches and stupid ideas. Victor never had an idea that wasn't at least half-way to brilliant and this was one of his better ones. Dancing on the ice with Yuri made his heart beat faster and filled his stomach with butterflies. There was nothing wrong with his idea.

“Maybe you should try to lift me?” Victor said as he pondered their options.

“What?” Yuri looked shocked, like doing it this way had never occurred to him. “Victor, that's stupid.”

Victor grinned. “I know you have the upper body strength to hold me up.” The memories of all the times Victor had launched himself at Yuri only for the smaller skater to whirl him around and occasionally push him up against a wall were moments he treasured.

Yuri was so flustered by the suggestive comment that he forgot to feel uncomfortable about his sore arms. He got that determined look again – the one that always meant that Victor was going to be exhausted by the end of the day. “Let's do it again.”

+

Victor closed his eyes, letting himself get lost in the touch of Yuri's hand on his cheek. He forgot to let go, to let them both segue into the next movement, and simply stood there with Yuri pressed close to him.

“I like this,” he said, quietly enthusiastic.

Yuri moved even closer, cheek to cheek, as he whispered into Victor's ear. “Please concentrate, we don't have time.”

Victor turned his head and kissed Yuri. They embraced, their hands wandering, their breathless sighs mixing together. Victor kissed the side of Yuri's mouth. His hands had found their way down to Yuri's waistband, slowly working into the small gap.

“Ah, Victor, we're in public.”

Victor didn't look around. “There's no one here except us.” He attacked Yuri's neck with the full intent of leaving a visible sign of his affection.

Yuri pushed him away – just far enough so he could see right into his eyes. “One kiss, then we go back to the program, okay?”

Victor nodded vigorously.

+

They worked hard the next two weeks. Yuri forced himself awake at 5 in the morning and they stayed at the rink far into the evening, making life hell for the Nishigori family who had to have at least one person staying with them to close up after they were done. By day five, they decided that it was better for all involved if Yuri got back the key he used to have.

Making out in the pauses between one training session and the next seemed like a perfectly good idea at the time. Every successful quad jump got Yuri a kiss; a perfect quad flip was their excuse to take a longer break and cuddle for ten minutes.

The notes to Stammi Vicino filled the rink from eight to ten, morning and night. It was the beginning and end to their day and often devolved into giggles and kisses. It was hard to stay professional with Yuri's hands all over his body, Yuri's face close enough to kiss, Yuri's body so perfectly toned and sensual, always on display.

Being on the ice with Yuri truly was the most fun Victor had had in years, and it reminded him of what he missed being a coach: the feel of skates on his feet, that specific way of movement, and that relentless need to perfect his performance.

It felt like he had never wanted anything more than being here with Yuri, on the ice, showing off just how much they meant to each other. If it was always like this, Victor didn't need anything else.

+

Everyone had their opinions on what they were doing, of course.

Yuko was the one who took Victor aside one day and gave him a very convincing talk about never hurting Yuri or else. It was quite frightening, not that Victor had any intention of ever doing anything that could possibly make Yuri upset. They had their share of problems, anger and miscommunication, but deep down they had a solid understanding, something that tied them together. He trusted that feeling enough to laugh at Yuko's attempts to intimidate him.

He didn't trust that feeling enough to ever be alone in a room with her.

The triplets had taken on even more of a cheerleading role, completely enamored with the turn Yuri and Victor's relationship had taken. They were the owners of Victuri.com and curated several fanblogs entirely devoted to the two of them, together.

And the Katsukis? They were so happy with him and Yuri that they were stuffing them with food, and otherwise just beaming happily from a distance. Even Mari wore a stubborn smile whenever she saw them together. It was slightly disturbing, in a sweet and innocent way that almost made Victor blush about all the dirty thoughts he indulged when it came to Yuri.

Almost.

+

Every time Victor watched Yuri integrate his signature move into his free skate program, it made him feel as moved and excited as the first time. It was intimate in a way Victor had never truly experienced before. Yuri still couldn't do the quad flip consistently, but the fact that he would try always made Victor feel like he was the most important person in Yuri's world. It was silly that being Yuri’s focus would give him such a glow, that being this important to Yuri would be so important to him in turn.

And yet, here he was, far away from home, doing everything in his power to make Yuri Katsuki the best figure skater the world had ever seen.

When Victor Nikiforov had a plan, nothing could stop him. Not even Yuri's brain.

  
  


 

ROSTELECOM CUP

The air in Russia was different now.

That had to be the reason why Victor was so uncomfortable in his skin, why Yuri not being around him when the hounds and reporters descended made him feel like a lost child, why everything was too loud and too crass and Victor felt like a stranger.

He didn't call Yakov or Yurio. They were on his mind, of course, but he couldn't bring himself to connect with them when he'd been so aggressively independent before. He didn't want to seem like he needed anyone else to do this. Just him and Yuri.

Once they both made it to their hotel room, Yuri looked completely wrecked. Victor had no idea how to fix that when his own skin crawled with anxiety. They were both reaching for each other before the door fell shut behind him.

Yuri wore an expression of utter exhaustion. “Yurio was not very happy to see me today,” Yuri whispered. “I think he hasn't forgiven us for you staying with me.”

Victor nodded, the words scraping his throat on the way out. “He's right to be jealous.” He didn't elaborate and Yuri didn't need him to – they both knew more than they could say, about each other and this fragile yet magnificent thing between them.

+

The day of the short program was charged with a joyful competitive spirit.

Yuri promised to show his love to the world, to Russia, and Victor knew that it was perhaps most important to show Yuri's love to Victor. Every movement was an expression of need, of pure sexual energy, and it was all for him. Things they couldn't say to each other in words, Yuri managed to express them on the ice. It was magical and entirely inappropriate.

The phone call Yuri received from Japan was like a bucket of ice water upended over his head. His beloved, loyal Makkachin needed him, like he had always needed him when Victor had chosen himself and his career above his dog’s heart. This could be his last chance to make up for past neglect.

“You have to go,” Yuri said, “I couldn't stand it if you lost Makkachin and didn't have a chance to say goodbye because of me. You already gave up so much. Please.”

+

Victor was at the animal hospital when Yuri had to go out on the ice again, alone this time, and too far away. Happiness about Makkachin's recovery warred with his need to be with Yuri, no matter if it was to celebrate or commiserate. He'd never felt so torn in his life.

Mari didn't help. She was apologetic and subdued, not at all the woman Victor had come to know. Everyone was treating him like he was made of glass and he couldn't figure out why until he heard the news from Russia.

Fourth place.

He'd failed Yuri somehow. It was hard to understand what this all meant. Victor was lost, in turmoil, completely at odds with himself. Part of him insisted he should have been there, that Yuri would have been fine if he'd been there to watch him, to take care of him. And another part knew that Yuri should have been able to do this by himself. He knew that this was his failure as Yuri's coach. His one and only job had been to work through Yuri's issues and allow him to become the skater he was always meant to be, and what was the point if Yuri had traded his insecurity with an inability to perform when Victor wasn't holding his hand?

It was Yuri's father who gave him the much needed encouragement to go pick Yuri up from the airport and tell him all the things that were in his heart.

+

They couldn't let go, not on the way home from the airport, not that night sitting with Yuri's family, not later in Victor's bed, kissing and taking each other in like they'd been apart so much longer. Victor couldn't believe his luck, couldn't imagine doing anything else but this: running his fingertips over Yuri's skin, breathing in his scent, listening to his little sighs and moans.

“I'm sorry,” Yuri said, “I couldn't think when you weren't there. I was so worried about Makkachin and I missed you so much.”

Victor kissed Yuri's forehead, peppered kisses near his temples, his cheeks, down to his mouth. “I didn't want to leave you, it's my fault that you were unprepared. I should have been a better coach.”

Yuri shook his head, but didn't pull away. “Not your fault. I couldn't have lived with myself if Makkachin had died and you wouldn't have been there. I still, I can't- With Vicchan, I put the competition first and I lost them both. I couldn't let that happen to you.”

“Yuri, I-” Victor started, unable to put into words everything he felt.

Yuri pushed him back on the bed, seating himself on Victor's thighs and tangling their fingers together. “Victor,” he said, voice raw. “I promise I will make you proud at the Grand Prix Final.”

Victor's chest felt insanely tight, love bursting like fireworks all over his skin. “You already make me proud, all the time.” He reached up with one hand, freeing himself reluctantly from Yuri's grip, to pull Yuri's head down to meet him.

Searingly hot, the kiss set Victor's body alight. He couldn't get enough, pushing his tongue into Yuri's mouth, his fingers through Yuri's hair. He pushed his groin up toward Yuri, yearning for delicious, necessary friction.

“Ah, Victor!” Yuri let go of his other hand to reach down, trail his fingers along Victor's hardness. “Can I?”

Victor nodded enthusiastically. “Always. Anything you want.”

The touch of Yuri's fingers was electric. It brought Victor close to the edge in the time it took Yuri to kiss from his mouth to his ear and down his neck. Yuri freed his own erection and lined them up, taking both of them in his hand.

“I'm so happy,” Yuri whispered in his ear, between gasps and sighs of pleasure, “so happy we get to keep going.”

Victor pressed his eyes shut, his whole body tensing with arousal. “Yuri, please. Please, more.”

Yuri devoured his mouth, flicking his wrist on the upstroke like a porn star and Victor came undone.

+

Skating with the love of his life was an interesting experience. When Yuri fell during jump practice, trying to perfect that quad flip, Victor could almost feel his pain. But worse was the look Yuri gave him after, a look like he'd let them both down, something that Victor could not bear to watch and tried to kiss away.

They were even worse than that when they allowed themselves to practice the exhibition. Victor had commissioned a duet version of Stammi Vicino as a surprise: the song now incorporated Yuri's piano and violin arrangement. It had become such a happy song, such a lovely embodiment of what they meant to each other, that Victor could never listen to it without grinning like a fool.

For all that Yuri was a consummate professional, ever since Russia he was much more inclined to spend their time on the ice locked in a tight embrace. Victor made them practice small sections of the program and all of them ended in hugs, kisses, and Yuri laughing without restraint, carefree and beautiful.

In his mind, all Victor could think was “I love you, I love you, I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” but what he usually said was “Even a shaky quad is valued higher than a perfect triple, but we can't make that gamble,” or “I don't think we can do side by side spins while holding hands the entire time”.

It wasn't that he was using his coach persona to put distance between them; he simply knew that Yuri had trouble putting this bond between them into words. It put him at ease when Victor pretended to be vaguely professional every once in a while. The truth was that Victor could watch Yuri blush about his feelings every day of the week, but blushy Yuri was easily distracted and too much in his own head. He needed him to be focused, so Victor had to do his part.

They were going to win the Grand Prix together after all.

  
  


GRAND PRIX FINAL

Barcelona came for them so much faster than Victor expected. One day they were still goofing off on the ice after a long day of jump practice and Victor showing Yuri how to do each of the quads, even the ones Yuri couldn't do quite yet; doing a quad Lutz with both arms above his head because he could and it really was impressive that his body still knew exactly how to get there; the next day they were getting off a plane in Barcelona, where the weather was perfect and the air reminded him of home – Hasetsu just as much as St. Petersburg.

Victor never knew what to expect with Yuri and he was always careful not to push him too much, but Barcelona taught him that whatever he believed he knew, there were always surprises around the corner. Looking at his ring, he knew just how much of a miracle it was that Yuri and him had gotten there, so very much in love, so close to winning that medal that he could taste it. Yuri never said, of course he didn't, but the fact that he couldn't remember the banquet meant he'd had to have been completely confused when Victor just showed up at the onsen. Naked.

It was a miracle, for sure, and maybe destiny.

+

The thing about magic, especially spells said over lucky charms, was that it worked in mysterious ways. If one believed, truly, deeply believed in it, sometimes magic’s failure could crush the spirit more than a normal bad turn of events or moment of bad luck.

Yuri looked so crushed on the ice, so destroyed after a program that should have been his greatest achievement so far, that Victor wanted desperately to reach out to him. He wanted to fold Yuri into his arms and protect him from the world. But Yuri wouldn't have it. Yuri retreated into himself and Victor let him. He knew that Yuri would speak when he was ready.

Unfortunately, what he said was utter bullshit.

“I didn't realize,” Victor said, letting his emotions show on his face, “that Yuri Katsuki could be so selfish.”

They hadn't talked about this enough. They should have, but they were so caught up in their personal life, the way they fell in love, fell into each other, Victor forgot to say what he needed to say. That he couldn't imagine a life on the ice without Yuri, that as much as he wanted to go back and truly get his closure, doing it without Yuri there wasn't what he wanted.

“I thought you wanted to go back.”

Yes, of course he did. He'd found joy and purpose on the ice again, finally. But not alone. Never again alone. “I can't believe you would give it up, now, before Four Continents. Worlds. The Olympics.” Victor was furious, and his angry tears felt hot on his cheeks.

Yuri looked away. “That's why I'm doing it, you know. It's your last chance. In five years, you're going to be too old. If it comes down to you or me, I want it to be you.”

“What if that's not what I want? I want to see you there, Yuri. I want to see you in Pyongyang, with a gold medal around your neck. Is that really so much to ask?”

Yuri took his hand. The fight went out of Victor and nothing but sadness remained. “Listen, I'm still going to be there, cheering you on. I... I want you to go back to Russia, and if you'll have me, I want to come with you. I always want to come with you and stand by your side.”

Victor swallowed his first response, the angry, desperate plea. “I know.” He tangled their fingers together. “I don't want you to make this decision tonight. Please think about it a little more?”

“Alright,” Yuri said, pressing a kiss to their joined hands. He brushed his lips over Victor's ring and there was more reassurance in the simple gesture than any words could have given Victor. “We can wait until the Grand Prix is over. But promise me you will think about it, too?”

“Of course,” Victor said, already trying to figure out how to keep them both on the ice. “Anything for you.”

Yuri didn't look entirely happy with that answer.

+

When Yuri broke his world record with a perfect, beautiful free skate, it felt both like an end and a beginning. Victor knew what to do, he just hoped Yuri knew it, too.

+

Fiddling with his costume, Victor fought his stupid grin. He'd been smiling all day, eager to show the world exactly what he and Yuri could accomplish together. They'd practiced this a little less often than they should have, a little too much affection to be professional perhaps. Not that there could ever be enough of that between them.

Out there, the crowd cheered Yuri on, expecting nothing but a beautiful skate from one of the greatest skaters of their time. Yuri could beat Victor himself under the right circumstances and that knowledge was intoxicating.

They'd asked for Yuri to be last in the gala, and the organizers had agreed once Yurio assured them that he didn't mind. It was only fair, because after this the crowd would probably not have been able to appreciate Yurio's angry teenage fantasy.

Because this was about love and so much more, a connection so powerful that it changed them both for the better.

Victor pushed out on the ice, the crowd: startled, then roaring. All Victor could see was the smile on Yuri's face. They skated together, perfectly in sync like they hadn't been in practice, with all their secret doubts and worries swept aside.

And when they kissed, on the last note of the song, Victor knew that what he felt was truly recognized, reflected back at him a thousandfold.

**Author's Note:**

> Who knew the world would be saved by ice skating? If you want to gush at me about these silly, silly boys, I'm [suaine](http://suaine.tumblr.com) on tumblr and [realsuaine](http://twitter.com/realsuaine) on twitter.


End file.
